[i][/i][center][h2][color=ed1c24][i][b]Drake “D” Edwards[/b][/i][/color][/h2] [img] http://i186.photobucket.com/albums/x105/ShatteredCovenant/drake3post_zpsrxjdemys.jpg [/img][/center] [hr][center][color=ed1c24][b]Location:[/b][/color] Ashford Institute for the Gifted > Courtyard [color=ed1c24][b]Interactions/Mentions:[@KatKook][@Damo021][@Bounce][@BoyMom69035][/b][/color] [/center][hr][hr] Drake's attention soon diverted when he saw a familiar, gorgeous redhead approaching. He noticed from before that she had changed clothes, but it wasn't until now that he realized the boots has been exchanged for tennis shoes. He felt a bit like Jack Sparrow when he asked himself [color=f7976a][i]Why are the boots gone?[/i][/color] He let out a nearly silent huff of amusement. Sally approached the group and extended introductions to those she hadn't met before. Drake looked on while his head was swimming with his previous thoughts about getting back to his old self and took a third gulp of his poison. [i][color=f7976a]Hmmm...[/color][/i] he mused. ”[color=hotpink]Is that… is that whiskey?[/color]" Sally whispered. A devilish grin formed on Drake's face as he raised the flask again, this time towards Sally. "[color=f7976a]By all means, please,[/color]" he said, offering a drink. "[color=f7976a]How you doing?[/color]" he asked, with a sort of cheeky tone. Part of him truly was concerned for her recovery from the incident earlier. The other part of him was starting to feel a tinge of the alcohol's influence. He could feel the tension in his muscles, a tension that had been building up for over a week, slowly begin to ease, if only just a hair.